


My Next Door Neighbour is an Incubus

by shadhahvar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, Incubus Katsuki Yuuri, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 05:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadhahvar/pseuds/shadhahvar
Summary: Victor's new neighbour has a secret.





	My Next Door Neighbour is an Incubus

**Author's Note:**

> A major thank you to [CreativeSweets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets) for having beta'd this whole mess! Without their help, this whole story would have been much less flowing and sensible. Give their works a read and a kudos!

Victor met his next door neighbour when he was moving in, carting cardboard boxes up the outside stairs with his hair tugged every which-way by the wind that teased between the steps. He’d later remember a glimpse of brown eyes behind blue glasses; a comfortable white cable knit sweater showing collarbone; the nervous bob of an adam’s apple as his neighbour swallowed hard, staring up at Victor where he stood on the landing with Makkachin at his side.

At first, he thought the man might have been afraid of Makkachin. Fear of dogs was fairly common, so Victor tightened his hold on her leash and flashed an easy smile.

“I have a good hold on her,” he said. “She won’t be jumping on you or anything.”

The man flushed scarlet, slow blinks of his eyes resolving into a rapid shake of his head, box clutched tight against his chest. “No, that’s not—I love dogs!” He half shouted his denial, hunching his shoulders after, eyes flicking from Victor to Makkachin to the stairs.

Victor laughed, pleased his new neighbour was a dog enthusiast, but more grateful Makkachin wasn’t scaring him on his way in. “Great! Does that mean I can ring you up to watch her when I’m out of town?” He asked with a wink.

Yuuri looked up at him, still flushed and caught off guard enough to whisper, “Yes?” 

Victor was surprised into laughter for the second time that afternoon, clicking his tongue to Makkachin and starting down the stairs. “Don’t worry,” he said to Yuuri in passing, “I don’t really ask people to watch Makkachin until I’ve fed them at least once. If you’d like an extra pair of hands for hauling boxes or furniture around, I’m happy to help once we’re back from our walk!”

His nod and smile was met by a strangled sound of acknowledgement from his newest neighbour as Victor headed out. By the time he and Makkachin returned from the park, his neighbour was attempting to walk a large, heavy, awkward box up the stairs solo. He was doing a good job of it, slow progress aside, enough that Victor found himself admiring the bare expanse of the other man’s arms from where he’d pushed up his sleeves. He snorted, amused with himself, coaxing Makkachin to sit at the base of the stairs before he jogged up and offered to help.

Or as it turned out, simply introduced himself. “Hello! My name’s Victor. Mind if I help you haul this upstairs, Mister…?”

There was a repeat of that almost starstruck, slightly horrified expression from their first run-in on the stairs earlier all over again.

“Katsuki, but—don’t call me Mister. Please. Just Yuuri.”

He resisted the _Just Yuuri_ joke by a hair, instead flashing Yuuri a grin and bending his knees while he got ahold of the box. “It’s a pleasure, Yuuri. Now, let’s see if we can’t get your…” He leaned his head to the side to read what one side of the box was labeled in big, block print letters. “Black metal arm futon with size queen mattress?”

“Queen size,” Yuuri said, voice going higher on the word _size_. “I’m not a size queen.”

“Ah.” Victor tried to catch a glimpse of Yuuri’s eyes, but he was looking pointedly at the stairs again. “Good to know.” His amusement was audible in his voice and he knew it, but considering it was his own mistake in wording, he’d forgive himself.

As soon as they’d picked up the futon box together, Victor grunted, surprised by its weight. His admiration of Yuuri’s arms from earlier went up a notch. The man was _strong_. “How in the world were you carrying this up on your own?”

He thought he caught a hint of amusement in Yuuri’s initial mumbled response. Something, something, “...angle like that and lever it up, it’s not so bad.” Victor shook his head, chuckling, and set to the task of walking up the stairs backward.

They managed to get Yuuri’s to-be-assembled futon bed up to the third floor with minimal mishaps, Victor only stumbling once. Victor wished him a good afternoon, jogged back down to pick up Makkachin, then more or less moved on to the rest of his evening.

He saw Yuuri periodically after that, sometimes also catching up with Yuuri’s roommate Phichit. They were good neighbours, never loud after midnight, and more or less unremarkable in and of themselves. Most their interactions were in passing, Yuuri apparently more enamoured of Makkachin than Victor. He credited that as a certain shyness after a while, shifted from outright disinterest. More than once, he’d caught glimpses of Yuuri looking at him when he thought Victor didn’t notice, only to look away immediately once he caught Victor looking his way.

All in all, Yuuri was nice, cute in a messy, wholesome way, and he loved dogs. Victor wouldn’t have had much more of an opinion than that but for two things: the night he caught Yuuri dancing in the rain, and the dreams.

The dancing happened about two weeks after Yuuri moved in. An out of season storm brought warm rain down over the city with nightfall, Victor home late from choreography practice at his dance studio. Makkachin waited patiently and was overdue for her run outside; Victor kissed her nose and went right back into the rain with an umbrella and his dancing clothes on under his favourite coat.

Makkachin delighted in the rain, prancing from standing puddle to puddle and slapping one paw down into each, endlessly excited at the splashing of water around her feet. He let her off leash even though he shouldn’t, figuring most the residents at their complex would be safely indoors, not out in the courtyard and pseudo-garden that lead to the back parking lot.

He didn’t realise he was wrong until Makkachin paused in her prancing, head coming up as she sniffed and stared off down the path. Victor caught up with her, safe under his umbrella, reaching out to place a hand on her poll as she ceased shying away, not so slyly attempting to entice Victor into a game of tag.

“What’re you looking at, huh?” He asked the rhetorical question, glancing down the path and finding himself going still at the unexpected sight. Someone was... dancing? He squinted, watching whoever it was move along the cement walkway, tapping their feet to a rhythm they made with their body. They were holding a closed umbrella in hand, and their smile, once he caught sight of it, was broad and happy.

“Singing in the rain,” he said once he pinned down the niggling familiarity in the footwork, the choreography brought to life in an impromptu, adaptive dance. That fact that he recognised that it was Yuuri a moment later was coincidence. That Yuuri realised he was being watched was probably _also_ coincidence, though his startled look and how he froze before bolting when Victor called out to him was likely embarrassment.

Victor had seen nothing to be embarrassed about. Yuuri was nothing short of poetry in motion. Where had he learned to dance like that? What did Yuuri even do for a living?

It was a mystery he endured alongside the equally mysterious side-effect to that night in the rain: the sudden incursion of Yuuri into his dreams. Into his nightmares, if he was honest. Victor had been having more and more of them over the last year, uneasy dreams he woke up from in a cold sweat with a feeling of standing on the brink of some horror he couldn’t name, utterly and unspeakably alone. He didn’t know _why_ , not when stress wasn’t new at work, and he couldn’t pin down the loneliness that he frankly ended up cultivating and ignoring all on his own. If it was a subconscious wake-up call, all it was doing was leaving him sleep deprived and relearning how to take daytime naps alongside his dog.

Strange when the first nightmare he remembered out of all of them was also the first time he remembered ever dreaming about Yuuri. 

* * *

That first dream wasn’t so much a dream all on its own as it was an oasis in one of his terror-filled nightly tribulations. Mechanical spider-wolves chasing him for what felt like hours howled, Victor sprinting down the streets of a city that was sometimes St. Petersburg, sometimes the city he lived in now. Their sad, haunting cry would have been beautiful if he wasn’t terrified. He needed to be somewhere before it was too late, but the directions he kept trying to read on the back of a business card he had in hand slid around on the paper, legible in one moment, garbled nonsense the next. He didn’t have a phone, couldn’t find a payphone, couldn’t find any _person_ , only the endless maze of dark-lit streets, the clacking of metal limbs, the mechanical whirring.

A glint of gold off a doorframe caught his eye, drawing Victor’s desperate attention. He changed course, racing for it, a feeling like hope flickering to life in his chest. Any colour in this monochrome cityscape was an escape. He had to believe that. Skidding to a stop in front of the door, he took in the words _Private Eye_ and knew with the certainty of a dreamer that he’d be safe from whatever nameless presence pursued him if he could only get through that door.

He fumbled with the handle, trying to turn it and finding his hand sliding off like it was oiled and too slick to get a firm grip. Using both hands at once, he forced the handle to turn in agonizing degrees until he heard the latch pull back out of the lock. He staggered forward, barely catching himself before he tripped over the threshold and stumbling inside.

The door closed behind him, latching shut with a gentle, chiming finality that sent a shiver down his spine. There was no colour inside this new room, but the howling had gone quiet, replaced with the steady humming of a fan he couldn’t see. It wasn’t peaceful, not exactly, but the tension he felt here was closer to _anticipation_ than _dread._

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

He whipped around to stare at the man sitting behind him. The man’s feet were kicked up on the desk, his hat pulled down over his eyes, his features lost in shadow. Victor didn’t need to see him to recognise him. It was his voice that gave him away.

“Yuuri?” Victor heard the question in his voice, eyes dropping from the sitting man to the cluttered desk littered with papers and knick-knacks in confusion. None of what he saw made sense.

Yuuri smiled as he tipped his hat back, moving with feline grace as he walked on quiet feet over to where Victor stood.

“That’s not really an answer to my question.” Yuuri glanced over Victor’s shoulder at the door. When his gaze returned to Victor, he offered a small half-smile. “You look like you could use a little rest.”

Victor laughed, light and sharp, the adrenaline from his mad dash inside starting to wane. The humming background noise of a fan was steadily overtaken by the drumming of rain hitting an unseen window behind him. Victor studied this man of his dreams, remembering him from reality dancing in a rain that sounded just like this one. “That’d be nice,” he said at last. Under his breath he added, “Rest or any other occupation. Not being alone.”

Yuuri frowned. His answer wasn’t what Yuuri expected. Yuuri stepped forward, his unbuttoned trenchcoat flowing with him as he moved; the fedora set on the crown of his head hiding his eyes when he stood in front of Victor. “Are you alone now?”

 _Yes_ , he wanted to say, but the faceless presence that’d sent him running to this glimpse of gold in all the monochrome left him uncertain. “Do I have to be?” His voice held steady in spite of his inner turmoil.

Yuuri tipped his hat back, allowing Victor to see his face in full. Warm brown eyes flickered with such intensity Victor felt heat surge through him in response. He shivered, the emotion playing in Yuuri’s eyes reminding him of how he’d danced through the rain, powerful and untouchable. He was a balm that soothed Victor’s trouble heart in this landscape of nightmares.

“No,” Yuuri said, “You don’t have to be.” He reached out to touch Victor’s chin, sliding his fingertips along his jawline. The brush of his fingers was almost too light, not firm enough for reality; a dream within a dream ready to slip away. Yuuri cupped the side of Victor’s face and stepped closer, bringing them nearly chest to chest. Victor clutched at Yuuri’s hand, keeping him there, searching his eyes for reassurance that Yuuri wasn’t going to disappear as soon as he let go.

“Promise?”

Yuuri’s smile was soft where his eyes were heated. He nodded, slow and deliberate, thumb stroking over Victor’s cheek. His voice was deeper, lower when he spoke, sending another shiver down Victor’s spine. “I promise.” 

Desire coursed through Victor, lighting up his senses. He yearned for the warmth, touch, and connection of the man in front of him. With heavy-lidded eyes he leaned in for a kiss.

Colour flooded his world at the brush of those soft lips against his. The dark honey-golden brown of the old oak flooring, the rich reds of a cherrywood desk, and the lighter cyan of the walls rushed in filling his peripheral. He pressed against Yuuri, the afterimage of colours kaleidoscoping behind his closed eyes as Yuuri kissed Victor with equal passion.

Victor wanted to lose himself in the sweetness of those lips. He caught Yuuri’s lower lip between his teeth, suckling lightly until he pulled a quiet gasp from Yuuri’s throat. Smiling in happy satisfaction, Victor kissed him again, finding Yuuri more than willing to kiss back. 

He pulled his head back after another long, heated kiss, and opened his eyes with a degree of reluctance. The fingers of one hand were buried in the jet black strands of Yuuri’s hair; Victor couldn’t remember moving his hands. Taking in the rosy flush of Yuuri’s cheeks, feeling the heat of his front pressed to Victor’s, he found the only lifeline he ever needed, ever wanted in this nightmare place. “Is this okay?” 

Yuuri laughed, breathless and amused, pupils wide and reflecting Victor in their depths. “Oh, yes. Very okay,” he said, pulling Victor in for another kiss, hot and demanding, hands stroking down over Victor’s front. Victor shivered as those hands found his skin, fingers slipping under the hem of both shirt and sweater. A thrill of electric awareness shot through him as Yuuri teased his sweater and shirt up and over his head with eager impatience. 

Tossing both aside, Yuuri’s hands returned Victor’s bare chest, fingers splaying out as he caressed down, skimming over his nipples, his stomach, then lower still. Yuuri’s clever fingers only stopped to trace the waistband of Victor’s trousers, dipping underneath. Victor gasped into Yuuri’s mouth, his moan lost between them. Yuuri smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of Victor’s mouth as he unhooked Victor’s trousers and tugged the zipper down, each brush of his fingers against Victor’s growing arousal sending a jolt of heat to his groin. It only intensified as Yuuri started kissing along the line of his jaw, teeth grazing his earlobe when he reached his ear.

Victor’s impatience grew, his desire to feel skin on skin leading to him shoving Yuuri’s tie up and over his shoulder to fumble with the too-small buttons of his dress shirt. He wanted to touch Yuuri, to lean into the warmth of him, wanted to run his hands over his chest and stomach, map the contours of his body with his fingertips. He wanted to press kisses along the column of Yuuri’s throat, to lavish attention on his clavicle that had been so innocently bared in the loose sweater Yuuri had worn the day he’d moved in.

He wanted what he registered as impossible, knowing he dreamed, but knowing too he wasn’t ready to wake from it. He wanted to keep meeting Yuuri, talking with Yuuri, to hold Yuuri—the man—and not just the figment of his mind, to have a chance to learn if Yuuri wanted to hold him too. To hear Yuuri gasp as his teeth grazed the lobe of his ear, to know it was really Yuuri hauling Victor’s hips closer with his fingers hooked through Victor’s belt loops, that it was _Yuuri_ rocking up into him as Victor moaned in the back of his throat.

But to dream about reality while in a dream was too much. He had this moment, and if a fantasy was all he was allowed, then he’d take it, leaving the nightmares that plagued him behind for once. 

Victor moved as Yuuri shoved back against him, turning with him while Yuuri kissed and sucked marks on his neck as if he was escaping from something too. Victor felt the edge of the desk behind him, pressing into the muscle of his backside. He shivered, hands guiding Yuuri’s head back up so that he might lick into Yuuri’s mouth with a groan as Yuuri’s hands skimmed past his hips, sliding down to take hold of Victor’s ass and _squeeze_ as he ground against him. Then those clever hands shoved Victor’s trousers down. Yuuri pulled away with a hum and a sly smile, dropping down to his knees to press kisses across the top of Victor’s thigh while guiding the material of Victor’s trousers past his knees until they were pooled on the floor around his ankles. He stood naked, Yuuri kneeling at his feet with his black button-down shirt half undone, one hand stroking the back of Victor’s calf, the other near his ankle.

Victor’s breath came shallow as he stared down at Yuuri, who stared back up at him with his tie still slung over a shoulder. If Yuuri moved his head to the left, if he turned his face three quarters of a degree, if he opened his mouth, he’d be so close to Victor’s arousal with its gentle curve up and slight veer toward the right.

As if reading his mind, Yuuri smiled, gaze hooded as he licked his lips and leaned forward to brush another kiss against Victor’s inner thigh. He nibbled, too, a quick brush of canines and incisors followed by a lick and a kiss to soothe the sting; Victor sucked in a sharp breath as desire raced through him faster than a lightning strike. His dick twitched in response, Yuuri’s lips parted, and he started to lean in.

“No,” Victor said, reaching out to run his fingers through the mess of Yuuri’s hair. He smiled when Yuuri looked up at him with disbelieving confusion flitting across his face. “I want you here,” he said, holding his arms out to his sides, letting his ass rest against the desk behind him. “Where I can kiss you.”

He needed, craved that intimacy right then; erotic and wonderful as what Yuuri had been doing, Victor wanted something else.

Yuuri took his hand, kissing the center of his palm, still kneeling with a furrowed brow. While watching Victor’s face, he swept his tongue over his index finger, drawing it slowly into his mouth. Victor’s breath hitched; his dick twitched again with renewed interest, but his gaze stayed steady, his hand kept open and loose in Yuuri’s hold.

“You’re sure?”

Victor smiled. “As my heart beats.”

Something difficult to read flashed in Yuuri’s gaze. He switched his hold on Victor’s hand, accepting the help up, deliberately rubbing himself against Victor’s arousal as he kissed him longer and sweeter than before once he’d regained his feet. Like an apology, or a confession, or nothing of the sort.

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri, losing himself in that moment where he didn’t want to be found, where for no good reason he felt wanted by Yuuri as much as he wanted Yuuri in turn. Superficial as it was, he was warmed not just by desire and shared body heat, but by hope beating in his heart.

He’d been escaping the monochrome horrors of a landscape outside when he’d ended up here. Not a sanctuary, until it almost was; this escapism of another kind. Yuuri was a wonderful, willing distraction, dream that he was. Victor unbuttoned the rest of Yuuri’s shirt, his hands making quick work of Yuuri’s trousers, shoving them down past his hips. Victor stroked his fingers down Yuuri’s dick, delighting in that particular kind of velvet-soft skin over promising firmness as Yuuri gasped against his neck, clutching at Victor’s hips to stay grounded. Yuuri thrust into Victor’s loose grip with a gasp, but even that wasn’t what Victor had in mind, trailing kisses up Yuuri’s neck.

The details he considered when awake slipped past without heavy consideration; Victor licked the palm of one hand, and that was enough when he slipped it down between them to caress Yuuri’s cock, cutting down on friction for when he guided his length between Victor’s legs. With his thighs pressed together, his dick caught between them, Victor skimmed his hands over the muscle of Yuuri’s backside. He palmed the delicious curve of his arse and took hold, digging his fingertips into firm flesh and bucking forward while pulling Yuuri toward him to start the motion he wanted. 

“Victor,” Yuuri said, longing and surprise in his voice, fingers digging into the skin over his hips as Yuuri rolled his hips forward, thrusting between Victor’s thighs. The smooth glide and brush against his perineum and testes sent another burst of tingling, heady pleasure coursing through his lower body; his toes curled where he stood, gooseflesh breaking out across his skin, nipples budding and sensitive when they briefly brushed against Yuuri’s naked chest.

“Oh, God, _Yuuri_ ,” he said, meaning _more_ , meaning _yes_ , hearing Yuuri chuckle and thrust forward again with a sharper snap to his hips.

“Nothing like that,” Yuuri said, and Victor had no idea why, but he didn’t care as he claimed Yuuri’s lips for another open mouthed kiss. 

After that it was a symphony of motion, a chorus of sensation that sang along Victor’s nerve endings as the shadows were driven temporarily out of his mind. Yuuri held onto Victor, setting a rhythm for the thrust and roll of his hips as he fucked between Victor’s thighs, kissing Victor’s face, his lips, his jawline, his neck, and suckling on his earlobe.

“Victor,” was all Yuuri seemed to want to say. 

“Yuuri,” he called out in turn, his clever fingers finding Yuuri’s nipples and rolling over them, pinching them lightly to a rewarding hitch of breath and snap of Yuuri’s hips, upsetting his rhythm with a groaning, “ _Yes_.” Victor kissed and nibbled and licked a meandering path up Yuuri’s neck, interrupting himself to find Yuuri’s beautifully reddened mouth, sucking on his delectable and tempting lower lip in a way he found made Yuuri’s eyelashes flutter and hips stutter and his throat vibrate with a _moan_. Victor’s hands were free to explore Yuuri as he wished, winding around to Yuuri’s back under the material of the black button-down they’d never managed to pull off. His damn tie had fallen between them again; Victor fumbled through undoing its knot and tossing it to the side, running both hands over the now freely exposed expanse of Yuuri’s chest after as a reward for them both.

He matched himself to Yuuri’s rhythm, seeking out what friction he could find between their bodies as Yuuri thrust forward and pulled back. As Yuuri picked up the pace, fucking harder between Victor’s thighs, the friction wasn’t enough; Victor hooked one arm around Yuuri’s neck and locked lips while his other hand slid down to circle around his own dick.

“Wait for me, Yuuri,” he said, a smile of his lips against Yuuri’s as Yuuri grunted, an amused and aborted sound.

“Is that an order?”

“A request.” He panted, catching Yuuri’s lower lip between his teeth while pumping his fist up and down, palming the head of his dick and rolling his wrist as he clenched his thighs and thrust _up_ into his own hand, Yuuri gasping at the increased friction.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri said, his moan a thrill dancing across Victor’s veins, louder and more present than the rain that still fell somewhere beyond their room of light and warmth and colour.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor said, stroking himself faster, the ring of his fingers tight over his glans, beaded precum smearing on Yuuri’s stomach as his need grew sharper, more immediate. His wrist ached with the odd angle, but almost as soon as he noticed, the sensation was gone: fantasies had no room for realities of discomfort, and so he didn’t let himself linger on the thought. He clenched his thighs tight, his buttocks following suit, face pressed against the side of Yuuri’s neck near to biting the collar of his shirt as he stroked himself up to and over the edge.

He came with a long, moaning cry, inarticulate and clinging with one arm under Yuuri’s shirt, pressed to the warmth of his back, the other hand still stroking. As he shuddered through his orgasm his knees gave out, edges of his vision going white while Yuuri fucked between his thighs ever more erratically. Panting, he kissed Yuuri’s neck in his afterglow, holding himself close and keeping his thighs clenched while he murmured thoughtless words of encouragement and adoration. He couldn’t mean half of them, not if this were real. He didn’t know Yuuri well enough, but it was right in that moment to say everything he wished could be true. 

As Yuuri stiffened and his fingers pressed down hard into the flesh of Victor’s thighs, hips slamming forward ever more desperately and sending shivers of overstimulation crackling through Victor’s system, Victor murmured _good_ and _beautiful_ and kissed his open mouth as Yuuri came powerfully enough that they both relied on the desk keeping them upright as Victor took on all Yuuri’s boneless weight. Tangled and spent, Victor nuzzled into Yuuri’s hair, loving the feel of him in his arms, his warmth and the scent of sweat and sex and again, improbably, of summer rain.

Yuuri’s arms slid up and around Victor, holding him in return when he found his legs willing to work with him. He tried moving away only for Victor to tug him back, grunting as Yuuri’s weight settled against him again.

“Stay,” he said, mutinous even in the lethargic state settling over him in his afterglow.

“I will,” Yuuri said in a murmur somewhere between amused and sated.

“Mm. Good.” He nuzzled into Yuuri’s hair once more, letting his eyes start to close. “It’s too bad this is only a dream,” he said, sighing into the soft warmth of Yuuri. “I wouldn’t mind waking up next to you.”

Yuuri was quiet and stiff in Victor’s arms. “You don’t mean that,” he said, sounding self assured. “You don’t even know me.”

“I want to know you, and I mean what I mean.” He pulled his head back, eyes opening just enough for him to peer suspiciously at Yuuri. “This is my dream, why are we arguing?”

“Ask your subconscious,” Yuuri said, offering a half-smile. “Go to sleep, Victor.”

Victor regarded him for a moment, mind not even registering the fact he was technically standing, partly supported by a desk, covered in sweat and come and in no way shape or form near a bed. Sleep simply sounded wonderful, and in the lasting lassitude following orgasm, he simply nodded, smiled, and agreed. Pressing a sleepy kiss to Yuuri’s temple, he sighed, eyes fluttering closed again.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

He felt both the hesitation and the eventual press of lips to his forehead in turn. “You’re welcome, Victor.”

* * *

In the morning, Victor woke up tangled in his sheets and remembered a vague nightmare and the much more detailed fantasy that followed, embarrassed that, at near thirty, he’d had a wet-dream about the guy who lived next door. Not that he regretted it, given his growing fascination with Yuuri, but it did feel juvenile to wake up as he had. Wanting to spend more time with and around Yuuri manifesting in that particular fashion was… less than dignified, he supposed.

He cleaned up, stripped his sheets off his bed, and tossed them into the wash with a load of towels before making himself and Makkachin breakfast and going for their morning walk.

* * *

Next door Yuuri was already sitting up in bed, holding his head and trying to convince himself he wasn’t the absolute most inept quarter incubus on the planet after his intercession in Victor’s ongoing nightmares had taken a decidedly unplanned turn. It was his strongest gift, his access to the dreamworld of humans, but his presence was usually well masked, and he was the one who did the seducing if he bothered with any at all. (He rarely—if ever—bothered with it.) Peripheral feeding off the energy generated by sexual fantasies others dreamt took the edge off his innate hunger, leaving it manageable. He could nudge people’s dreams that direction, but he wasn’t usually involved himself, just playing a sort of unasked sandman role guiding people caught up in nightmares toward more erotic dream realms.

Sitting in his soiled sheets, wondering how the hell any of the last night had happened, he worried once again that Victor was some partially angelic being, there expressly to torment and taunt him in his efforts to live like a normal human. Victor had seen him; Victor had initiated a fantasy where he’d even been wanting to pleasure Yuuri as much as Yuuri wanted to pleasure him. Victor, who was already a walking, living temptation on his own, too beautiful and handsome and confident and all the things Yuuri found both attractive and craved to be for himself.

Victor, who held Yuuri in his dreaming arms and said he wished it was all real.

Yuuri rubbed his face and squirmed out of bed, thankful Phichit wasn’t an early riser unless needed. There was a hope blooming in Yuuri’s chest, infernal as he might be on some level. If Victor had meant it, if them spending time together before would lead to Victor wanting to spend time around the utterly average and struggling collegiate Katsuki Yuuri in his attempts at integrating with a fully human world, then maybe…

Maybe it could be something real for the both of them, too, one day.

It was only as he was bundling his sheets up to cart off to the wash that Yuuri realised he was smiling, and the bubbling, happy feeling in his chest wasn’t a new kind of anxiety—it was happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> I will be continuing this AU in the future, as a few of my other projects are better wrapped up. Thank you so much for your enthusiasm, everyone!
> 
> Thank you again, CreativeSweets. ❤


End file.
